After all, had she the right to interfere?
Oughtn't the thing to be thought over as a whole?
Mightn't there be arguments, worth considering, against her interference?
Her brain was too much in a whirl.

Hadn't she better wait till she could collect and arrange her thoughts?
The silver clock upon her desk struck six.

It had been a gift from her father when she was at Girton.

It never obtruded.

Its voice was a faint musical chime that she need not hear unless she cared to listen.